


rapture at rest

by skaralding



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drug-Induced Sex, F/M, Gang Rape, Gangbang, Immobility, Non-Consensual, Paralysis, Rape, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Ritual Sex, temporary paralysis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-10-01 02:49:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17235932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skaralding/pseuds/skaralding
Summary: Liana thought she knew what was going to happen. She thought her sacrifice to the Red God would be a brilliant thing, a pure and holy sacrifice shared with his most faithful priests.She was wrong.





	rapture at rest

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Post 1000 kinkmeme at FFA, for [this prompt](https://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/344797.html?thread=2005962717#cmt2005962717). Original fill edited for some mild tense issues, spelling etc.

Liana knew what was going to happen. She’d prepared– or she’d thought she had, having asked around, and been told, in furtive, guilty whispers, what sort of thing happened to the Red God’s Chosen.

She’d volunteered, along with a handful of other young men and women, mostly for the extra boon granted to the Chosen when the God did not have to pluck them forth from his flock. She’d thought she would be passed over for someone older, someone prettier, someone more important.

She’d felt honoured, when the high priest had read her name. Honoured, and embarrassed, and yet so hopeful; with two boons, she could afford an apprenticeship, might even be able to stretch to one in the city.

But before that, before her much-anticipated chance for more than her low birth could grant her, had always been the hurdle of the ritual.

_“He was transfixed,”_ Dame Erial had said to Liana, of her older brother, who had been Chosen many years ago. _“Paralysed by the light of god.”_

Liana simply didn’t expect that holy paralysis to be so… literal.

The high priest had given her a goblet to drink from, the usual sacrament, and he had turned his back as she shed her drab brown dress and donned the gauzy robe of the Chosen. The Red God’s light had grown brighter and brighter around her, hazing her view of everything, and she had fainted in what she’d thought to be ecstasy, but what soon proved to be far less ethereal.

She had felt them– the priests, and the vessels– touch her, heft her limp body up and cart it around like a heavy sack, with all the soft curses and grunts of effort that that sort of task entailed. She laid on a bed now, god’s light all she could see, and she did not know how to feel as her legs were painstakingly spread by many different hands. Smoothed or calloused, grasping or gentle, it mattered not; they were all touching her, and she was transfixed, and could do nothing.

Pleasure came to her in a sudden, startling burst when one of those hands slid all the way up to her exposed cunt. Had she been able to move, she would have jerked; it was unnatural, the strength of what she felt.

“Well,” one of the men said, his voice low and dry as he– or someone else– stroked her slick, aching entrance, “it seems the god’s tears are working. Who’s first?”

“Might as well get it over with,” another said, and Liana recognized his hands when they spread her legs even wider– his had been the gentle ones. If she’d been able to move, she would have held her breath; as it is, she could barely even slow it.

His knees settled between hers, causing the bed to creak below them. She heard the clinking of him unbuckling his belt, the rustle of him unbuttoning himself. Yet it was still a shock when he came over her, his stiff cock brushing against her inner thigh, and then being pressed against her entrance.

His entry hurt. And yet…

“Nngh,” he said, as he slowly impaled her, his cock stretching her slick, tight cunt in a way that felt– that was simply too much. “This one’s wet enough, at least.”

“You know very well that the tears of his Excellency do not always work in the same fashion on every Chosen,” the high priest said, his melodious voice sending a thrill of alarm through Liana, not just because he sounded almost snappish, but because he had said, had _promised_ the sacrament was private. That only those priests and vessels that were to partake would– would see her this way.

It was mortifying, the thought of the high priest watching this man grunt and huff as he plunged his cock in and out of her, all while complaining under his breath that it wasn’t much bloody fun when she couldn’t even move and make it interesting for him.

Interesting, he said. As if this had been supposed to be entertainment, instead of high sacrament, _sacrifice_ , an honour…

Tears blurred the hazy red nothingness. The cock within her kept on, and on, and _on_ , until every inch of her ached, until it was all she could do not to whine weakly in the back of her throat. She felt so sensitive now, so overstimulated that even his short, shallow thrusts felt like too much.

When he finished, it was with a loud sigh. She felt the twitch and pulse of his cock inside her, and whined despite herself when he finally withdrew, leaving a sticky trail down the inside of her thighs.

The next man was worse. Rough, excited, and determined to have her to the fullest, he pounded away at her like an animal, pausing only to turn her limp body over, or shift and pull her slack limbs into yet another configuration. “She’s more than wet enough, I’d say,” he growled, his breath hot against the side of her neck. “ _Lovely_ little piece.”

“Don’t let your man Zinec hear you say that,” someone else said, their voice rich with amusement. “He’d ban you from these, then.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” the man atop her said, his voice unsteady from his relentless effort. “Women are nothing, you know; we both stump up the fine when the Chosen’s a lad, but when it’s not… oh… Ah, _fuck_ …”

Liana hated him. She didn’t know any Zinec that had a husband instead of a wife, but she swore she would remember. He was still– even as he chased his end, he was crushing her with his weight, his hot, loud breaths, his hands digging into the skin of her hips where they held her tight against him, forcing her to absorb the shattering force of his thrusts.

“Oh! Oh, gods!” he cried, as he spent. He pulled out abruptly, too, leaving her sore and open and full of ill-omened curses. “Ah, that was a ride.”

“You were far too rough with her,” the high priest said. “You, then– not _you_ , Cilan, she’s not near enough relaxed to take you on as yet. Firren, you’re next.”

“But father, I–”

“You can have her afterwards, but you cannot have her now. Stand back.”

Liana couldn’t shudder, couldn’t cry out, couldn’t do anything to protest this continued crudity, this mockery of what should have been. Tears blurred her unseeing gaze again, as the man Firren, be he priest or vessel or beggar, turned her over and panted as he pulled her to him, lifting her hips up and back to better enter her. Once he was seated fully inside her, he groaned, then lowered her down to the bed, moving with her, breathing heavily as his long, slim cock slid into her again and again.

He kept lifting her up, kept caressing her buttocks, kept running his hands up and down her back and then below to her small breasts, his fingers gently pinching her nipples. If he hadn’t been the third man, if he hadn’t been _ordered_ to her as if she were– as if she were the mare to his stallion– it would almost have been alright. He, at least, was doing his best to worship her, his fingers dipping between them, stimulating her at the point where they joined, pinching her there until her cunt rippled around him again and again.

“Oh,” he moaned, “God smiles on our Chosen. She tightens for me– he frees her– _oh_!” His finish followed too soon, his cock pulsing deep inside her aching wetness, his body shuddering atop hers. “Oh, that was exquisite.”

Liana whimpered as he withdrew. She was so sore now, so sensitive, so slick within that she could not bear the thought of another. But there was nothing to be done about it; Firren was already moving off and away, to be replaced by someone with calloused hands that squeezed her rump and spread it, then worked their thick thumbs up and down her sticky, oversensitive lips.

_No,_ she wanted to say. _Give me some moments to myself– let me prepare myself again._ Though when she felt the press of his huge, thick cockhead against her, she knew, deep down, that nothing could have prepared her. She whined again. Her gaze blurred into wet, red and dark red streaks. The man let out a low, long groan, an obscene sound nearly fit to match the intrusion he was forcing on her.

It seemed to take an eternity for him to fully seat himself. He kept thrusting in, then withdrawing, heedless of her further whimpers, his hands squeezing and kneading her arse cheeks as he fucked into her. “God,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “God, but she’s sweet.”

With him nearly all the way inside her, Liana couldn’t think. She felt taken over, filled to bursting, and yet he kept on. She whimpered and whined and prayed desperately in her heart, to the god, to the man, to either of them that would listen, and spare her. Finally, she felt his heavy balls slap against her.

“So wet,” the man groaned, his voice hot and thick, his weight pressing her down into the bed when he went still. “She’s right for me, father. So right.”

“What good father does not know their son’s tastes?” the high priest said, his fond, knowing tone sending a flash of horror through her. He had– he had promised! She’d felt so embarrassed, after the Choosing, parting her legs so the high priest could enter her with his cool, clinical fingers to be sure she was a virgin, but she’d borne it like any good, god-fearing young woman. “Shall I leave her to you, then?”

“Yes, god yes!”

_No,_ Liana sobbed, unheard by all, and just as unheeded. _Please, no._ But she could already hear the rustlings and the shifting footsteps and low-voiced grumbles of men being encouraged to withdraw. She heard them all abandon her, even as the priest’s son began to rock again within her.

“Yes, my love,” he crooned. “ _Yes._ God has blessed us both.”


End file.
